


Tastebuds (Ours)

by jimingyu



Series: Tastebuds [4]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Continuation of series, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Rated T for swearing, minghao is just a bundle of emotions, pure fluff, seriously someone give this boy a hug, they're disgustingly in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 17:25:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12686799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jimingyu/pseuds/jimingyu
Summary: That year had tasted a bit different.That year tasted like green tea leaves, honey, and spring water. It tasted like the first breath of cool Autumn air after a burning hot Summer. It tasted like the cherry blossom trees shaking in the wind, and the fragile scent that floated behind the breeze. It tasted like the pastries in the window of the bakery down the street: warm, fluffy, and welcoming.It tasted like his mother tucking him into bed at night, kissing his forehead, and whispering, “You’re my moon and all my stars, Minghao. And someday, you’ll find someone who will make you shine even brighter.”It tasted fresh and comfortable, and Minghao grew to like it.





	Tastebuds (Ours)

**Author's Note:**

> hello & welcome back to this au! this one is a bit longer, & includes a lot of detail about different tastes! as always, thank you to everyone who kept me motivated to continue this au, and suggested ideas to me! i really appreciate you so much :) enjoy!
> 
> ~ cj

~

 

     Minghao remembered it like it was yesterday: his first day of real school. The excitement of meeting new people, being in a new environment, and _learning_ , Minghao’s favorite thing in the world. He was seven years old, his tastebuds alive with the flavors of a Summer well spent- flavored ice, barbecued meat, and those amazing lemonade cookies his mother always made when the air turned warmer. Usually, those tastes would fade gradually, soon becoming a fond memory.

That year, however, had tasted a bit different.

That year tasted like green tea leaves, honey, and spring water. It tasted like the first breath of cool Autumn air after a burning hot Summer. It tasted like the cherry blossom trees shaking in the wind, and the fragile scent that floated behind the breeze. It tasted like the pastries in the window of the bakery down the street made him feel: _warm_ , _fluffy_ , and _welcoming_.

It tasted like his mother tucking him into bed at night, kissing his forehead, and whispering, “ _You’re my moon and all my stars, Minghao. And someday, you’ll find someone who will make you shine even brighter.”_

It tasted fresh and comfortable, and Minghao grew to like it.

 

~

 

     By the time he was ten, Minghao began and ended every day with a cup of green tea with two spoonfuls of honey specifically for his soulmate. His soulmate had also caught onto his affinity for anything lemon flavored- lemonade, lemon candy, lemon cookies, lemon chewing gum. Much to Minghao’s liking, his soulmate began to add a few drops of lemon to their tea each morning, and it made Minghao’s cheeks feel warm with affection.

Along with tea, Minghao’s soulmate loved oranges. Every so often, an artificial orange flavor would burst onto Minghao’s tongue, and he recognized it as the candies his grandmother kept on the porch in a little jar sometimes. He made sure to tell his grandmother every time his soulmate was sucking on one of the candies, and her face would bloom into the warmest smile as she said, “ _They already love you, Hao_.”

He made a habit of keeping a few of the candies in his pocket at all times after that.

 

~

 

     When he was fifteen, Minghao kissed a girl for the first time. It was at a birthday party for a mutual friend, and they were all in the girl’s basement playing truth or dare. _Typical,_ Minghao knew, but he figured he needed to get it over with sooner or later.

Unfortunately, it happened sooner rather than later.

Of course, when the bottle pointed to him, his friends shouted “ _Dare!_ ” so loudly that he couldn’t refuse. Not with his masculinity (something his fifteen-year-old-self valued a lot) still intact, at least. So, when the birthday girl told him to go into the closet with a girl named Fei, he complied. “Don’t come out for three minutes! And don’t come out at all without proof that you kissed! I want swollen lips, people!” The birthday girl, Hyeri (?), announced. She seemed quite proud of herself for setting this whole scheme up.

Once they were actually in the closet, Minghao wasn’t sure what to do. He had never even spoken to this girl before that day, so he figured the right thing to do would be to introduce himself. He cleared his throat before he began: “So, hi, I’m Xu Minghao. Nice to meet you?” It sounded like a question because it was. “Xu Minghao? You’re Chinese?” Fei asked. She had her arms crossed over her chest, and her eyes nearly pierced straight through Minghao. She was intimidating to say the least.

“Yeah. What about you?” Minghao asked. He was trying to use up as much of the three minutes as he could. “Wang FeiFei, also from China. Nice to meet you!”

Okay, Minghao could handle this. He could handle kissing a _nice_ girl.

It wasn’t that Fei was unattractive or anything- she was actually very attractive. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders in waves, and her eyes were sharp, much like Minghao’s. Her pale complexion had no blemishes, and she had a warm smile. “ _Then why am I not attracted to her?”_ Minghao asked himself. He assumed Fei had only been so closed off because she was still wary of him, but she was starting to open up now. Her arms unfolded, she took a step forward, and Minghao was much more intimidated now.

He took a step back, smacked against the wall. “ _This is where it ends. This is how I die.”_ Mingaho was narrating this whole situation in his head, trying to figure out how to get the hell out of it. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?” Fei asked, her voice dipping deeper in pitch. She was even closer now, and had taken Minghao’s hand in her own. “No, I haven’t,” he answered. “I’ve never really wanted to, honestly.” He gulped, and Fei followed his throat as he did so.

The closet was _too hot_.

“Are you opposed to it now?” Fei asked. Her hand was slowly making it’s way up Minghao’s forearm, grazing over his barely-there biceps, and coming to rest against his collarbone.

Minghao was _definitely_ opposed to this.

“No?” he was questioning himself, but also trying to send signals to Fei so she _wouldn’t_ kiss him. She wasn’t getting it, and Minghao sighed, defeated. He knew that his friends wouldn’t let him out of the closet until they heard or saw proof that something happened. Really, Minghao could’ve rubbed his face against the wall and fooled them, but Fei probably would’ve taken offense to that.

Their three minutes were almost up, so Minghao did what he had to in order to get out of the tiny closet. He sucked in a breath, cupped Fei’s cheeks in both hands the way he’d seen his father do to his mother, and slotted his lips between hers.

It was _wrong_.

It was so wrong that he couldn’t imagine it ever being even _remotely_ right.

Minghao had always wanted his first kiss to be with his soulmate, not a random person who was crafted for someone else. This kiss felt _unnatural_ , _strained_ , and every other synonym Minghao could think of in that moment. Fei had to feel it too. She _had_ to.

Minghao pulled away after about ten seconds, and cringed at the sound their lips made as they parted. Fei stuck out her tongue a bit, and scrunched up her face as if she had a bad taste in her mouth. Minghao chuckled softly at that. “I guess I can mark your name off the list of possible soulmates.” Fei joked. She was laughing too, and Minghao was so glad that it wasn’t awkward. “I’m hurt,” Minghao threw his hand over his heart dramatically, and Fei punched him lightly in the shoulder.

“Ow!” he yelped. “Now I’m actually hurt!” “Want some more of these guns, Xu?” Fei had asked that in Mandarin as she flexed her biceps, and it caught Minghao off guard for a moment. “Put those things away before somebody gets hurt.” “Somebody already did get hurt.” She punched him again, and smiled as they both continued to speak in their native tongue.

“Alright, lovebirds, wrap it up!” Hyeri was making her way towards the closet, and Fei quickly rubbed her forefinger against Minghao’s lips. “Makes it more believable,” she whispered, doing the same to her own lips. “By the way, I’m three years older than you. Done this a few times. Forgot to mention that. Hyeri’s my cousin.” Minghao swore his eyes nearly fell out of his head at that comment.

Everything blew over quickly after that. Minghao and Fei had apparently been in the closet for about fifteen minutes because no one could hear anything happening. After they explained that situation, (“ _I didn’t even know the kid, Hyeri! He introduced himself to me! Such a gentleman!_ ”) the game resumed as normal, and Minghao’s father arrived soon after to pick him up.

Really, Minghao had sent his father a text that read:

**Me:** **these girls are killing me. pls help.**

**Papa Xu: on my way, son. **

 

~

 

     Weirdly enough, Minghao and Fei stayed close after that incident. She graduated when he was in tenth grade, so they didn’t see each other as often, but they still kept in touch. She checked up on him a lot, asking about his soulmate, school, and if she needed to beat up anyone.

“I can handle myself, Fei. I’m almost eighteen years old, you know.” he said one night when they were on the phone. Minghao couldn’t sleep, and Fei needed a distraction during her study break. “You’re still fifteen to me, Hao. I know you can handle yourself because you’re trained in martial arts and all that jazz, but I’ll still beat some ass. Just, ya know, if the opportunity ever arises.” Fei always talked like she fought people twice her size all the time, when, in reality, she would never hurt a fly. If challenged, Minghao knew she could cause some serious damage, but never unless she was actually provoked.

“As always, thank you for the offer, Fei,” he glanced at the time on his phone. “Hey, it’s almost midnight. Shouldn’t you be getting to bed if you have a test in the morning?” “Shouldn’t _you_ be getting to bed if you have to get up for school in the morning?” Fei retaliated. She was teasing, but also not teasing. “You’ve got me there,” Minghao admitted. “Text me to let me know if you make it out of the test alive tomorrow.” Fei sighed heavily, but Minghao could hear the smile in her voice.

“Will do, Hao. Actually got to sleep, okay? Don’t jerk off for hours like Connor did in high school,” Connor was Fei’s soulmate, and they were perfect together. Minghao was envious of how close they were, but not envious of the fact that Fei had to put up with Connor for the rest of her life. “That takes energy, Fei. I have none. Zero. _Zilch_.”

“I gotcha,” She was still smiling. “Get some rest, Hao. Love you.”

“Good luck tomorrow! Love you too.”

Talking to Fei always made Minghao feel hopeful about his future. Fei was in college earning her degree, in a happy relationship, kept in touch with her friends, and was able to work part-time at the college bookstore. Minghao was so proud of her for doing it all on her own, and for keeping her sense of humour through it all. Fei reminded Minghao that he was only stuck in high school temporarily, and that he was still in control of his life even then. She reminded him that somewhere in this world, there was a person made for him, and that finding them would be the most exquisite thing he’d ever tasted.

Fei gave Minghao the support and love that his other friends had always lacked.

Fei reminded him to drink his cup of tea every morning and night, and to take the candies out of his pockets before he washed his pants, and Minghao couldn’t have asked for a better best friend.

 

~

 

     When Minghao was twenty, he planned to get super wasted for the first time. _Planned_.

Hardly any alcoholic drinks were consumed that night. He wasn’t even _buzzed_. Minghao was noticeably pissed, but very far from wasted.

Everything that happened in his life seemed to happen in the typical orderly fashion of a young adult who is horrible at the ‘adult’ part:

1\. Having his first kiss because of truth or dare. Standard.

2\. Driving for the first time, but only to take himself to the hospital after impaling himself with a pencil while studying. He _despised_ chemistry from then on.

3\. Drinking alcohol for the first time, and being left by his friend group who were all probably busy getting their dicks sucked.

4\. _Not_ getting his dick sucked the first time he drank. Disappointing, but not unexpected.

5\. Not even getting drunk the first time he was actually able to! Hansol would tease him about it for months afterwards.

6\. Oh, yes, and still texting his mom twice a month to remind him what kind of laundry detergent it is that irritates his skin. (It was the one with the bear on the front.)

And now, here he was, in the house of a person he had only met once, squished on said person’s sofa, one thigh against the arm of the sofa, and the other grazing a _very_ sweaty ass. Minghao thought he had had his fair share of swap ass in his time as a dancer, but no, this person was the _pinnacle_ swamp ass, the living _definition_ of swamp ass, and honestly, Minghao couldn’t think of anything else other than how badly he wanted to leave.

“Minghao! My dude! My number one bro!” Hansol was in front of him suddenly, grasping two cups of unidentified substances in his hands. “Why aren’t you drunk yet? Parties are so shitty without alcohol! It’s just sweat, and loud music, and smelly bodies, and _eck_ ,” Hansol grimaced at the thought of what he was describing, but Minghao understood exactly what he meant. He was having no fun at all.

“Anywho, I brought you beer! You need to have fun, let loose a little! Here, come with me.” Hansol pulled him up off the couch after situating one of the cups into Minghao’s hand, and led him down a set of stairs. It got darker and noticeably smellier as they descended down the staircase. “Hansol, what are they doing down here?” Minghao asked. He wasn’t so sure that he wanted to go all the way down the stairs. “They aren’t doing much of anything now. Too drunk to even stand up.” Hansol had a weird grin on his face, and Minghao really wanted to turn around.

“Hansol, I’m not really up for this tonight. The smell down here is making me queasy.” They reached the bottom of the stairs and turned into a narrow hallway with two wooden doors on each side. At the end of the hallway was an opening to a wider room with a few pieces of furniture, and a huge flat-screen television. Quite a few people were crowded onto the loveseat, gazing up at the T.V. screen playing America’s Funniest Home Videos.

Minghao still wanted to leave, despite how cozy the couch looked.

Hansol stopped just short of the entrance, and looked at Minghao like he’d just confessed his worst sins to him. “Wait, did you think that I brought you down here to get _drunk_?” Hansol questioned. He looked truly scandalized. “Yes? Why else would you bring me down here?” “To meet Junhui? You think I’m leading you down here to get drunk? I’m hurt, Minghao, honestly.”

Before Minghao could begin to question who Junhui was, and why he warranted a personal introduction, Hansol pulled him further down the hallway. Inside the dark, warm room was arguably one of the most stunning humans Minghao had ever laid eyes on.

In his twenty years of existence, Minghao had never been rendered literally _speechless_ simply because of someone’s appearance. The boy- Minghao _prayed_ it was Junhui -had a defined jawline, high-set cheekbones, and the most prominent Cupid’s bow Minghao had ever seen. His eyes were wide and curious, his dark hair was perfectly messy, and his lips looked _irresistibly_ soft.

Minghao felt the sting of alcohol in his throat mingling pleasantly with the taste of oranges that was always present. It comforted him.

Minghao’s nearly religious experience was rudely interrupted by Hansol shoving him towards one of the couches that just happened to contain the angel-like boy. Hansol flopped down unceremoniously, and pulled Minghao beside him to sit between him and the other boy. The other boy turned to look to Hansol, but his eyes quickly diverted to Minghao.

Minghao wanted to hold his gaze, he really did, but the boy’s eyes were so _intense_ , and it felt as if his irises contained _everything_ ; every flavor, every color, every texture this universe could create was right in front of him.

Minghao felt sick, but he also felt strangely at home. That thought was too much. He looked away.

“Hansol, where are your manners? Aren’t you going to introduce your adorable friend to me?” the boy asked, and Minghao’s heart nearly exited his body.

_Adorable_.

“My manners are ever present, thank you! Junhui, this is my friend, Minghao,” _Thank God_. Minghao extended his hand to shake Junhui’s as he continued the greeting. “I’m Xu Minghao. It’s nice to meet you.” Junhui’s smile was… something else. It was bright, warm, and scrunched up Junhui’s eyes when it reached them.

Minghao wanted to vomit because of how damn _cute_ he was.

Junhui took a swig of his drink before he spoke, and Minghao’s mouth erupted with the flame of a beverage he was sure he had not consumed. He could practically feel his soulmate prodding at his side, pleading, “ _Pay attention to me!_ ”

“Wen Junhui. It’s great to finally meet you, as well. Your friends talk about you all the time, you know,” Minghao zoned out temporarily, too focused on how soft Junhui’s hands were when they grasped his own. He was tempted to ask the other what moisturizer he used. “They talk about how you’re always doing everything to please your soulmate, carrying around candy in your pockets, and drinking tea each night with them,” There wasn’t a trace of malice in Junhui’s words, but _endearment_ instead. He sounded curious, and it made Minghao feel light and appreciated in some way.

“They make you out to be a hopeless romantic, so smitten with his soulmate that he wouldn’t dare touch anyone else. Is that true?” Hansol wasn’t listening at this point, but Junhui was whispering anyway. He had leaned closer to Minghao’s ear, and his lips were almost brushing over the stud there, but Minghao wasn’t going to pull away. Being this close to Junhui was _intoxicating_ , _spellbinding_ , even. Minghao didn’t plan on moving for awhile.

“You tell me,” Minghao challenged. Everyone else in the room was either passed out, or too preoccupied with something else to notice their blatant flirting. It only heightened Minghao’s confidence. “Do I look hopelessly devoted to you?”

He met Junhui’s eyes, and was amazed, once again, by the intensity of them. However, it was a different kind of intensity this time. His eyes held feelings of _want_ , _lust_ , and _desire_. Minghao would be lying if he said his eyes looked any different.

“You seem to be the kind of person who would devote themselves to one soul only. Not that that’s a bad thing,” Junhui’s gaze turned softer, and he took Minghao’s hands in his own. His tone was more gentle, the lilting playfulness absent. “Hey,” he breathed, fiddling with Minghao’s fingers, sliding his thumb across his knuckles. “I’m only messing with you. I just wanted to see if you were still coherent, and worth talking to. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

_Oh_.

Minghao shifted his gaze towards their hands instead of meeting Junhui’s eyes, embarrassed.

_He was just joking_.

“That’s okay. I understand.” Minghao untangled their hands, rose to his feet, and started to leave, thinking this situation would be less awkward for both of them if they pretended it never happened. “Wait!” Junhui grabbed Minghao’s wrist and spun him around. “Where are you going?” he asked. Minghao sputtered a bit before actually answering. “I-I figured this would be easier if I just left you alone.”

“Well, you’re definitely not making it any easier for me to get your number. Am I really that bad at flirting? I know it’s been awhile, but geesh.” Junhui was very obviously flustered, and Minghao thought it was so cute. The way his hands trailed up and down his forearms, and fidgeted with the earring on his lobe transfixed Minghao.

_Wait_.

“Y-You want my number? _Mine_?” Minghao asked, pointing to himself. Junhui laughed, and it sounded melodic. “Yes, yours, silly.” Minghao fumbled over his words, and tried to think of anything except the warmth of Junhui’s breath on his neck, and the look of want in his eyes.

Obviously, he failed.

“O-Oh my god. Okay, gimme just a second.” Minghao’s tongue felt like it had grown two times larger, and he exchanged phones with Junhui, typing his number in with shaky hands. Junhui smiled up at him, and made a ‘come-hither’ motion with his finger. He brought his lips to Minghao’s ear again (the music was getting louder upstairs) and whisper-yelled, “Drive safe, and text me when you get home. Don’t forget to drink your tea.”

He pulled away, and his features all turned upwards with his smile. Minghao smelled oranges on his breath, and saw Junhui take a piece of candy out of his pocket.

_Oh god_.

_That was the candy._

Minghao shot Junhui a smile that probably looked more like a grimace, and raced down the hallway and back up the stairs. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Minghao,” he muttered this to himself in Mandarin. “It’s just candy.”

 

_“It’s just candy.”_

 

~

 

     Minghao thought about Junhui the entire ride home, and he wouldn’t say that he drove “safe”. It was difficult not to think about Junhui when the artificial tang of oranges invaded his mouth the moment he left the party.

Minghao fumbled with his keys, and showed his student I.D. to the plump, bald man sitting at the security desk at the front of his dorm. He didn’t care that he was coming home past curfew, he just needed to be _home_. He stumbled into his room, and hurriedly took off his shoes before typing a message to Junhui:

**Me: i’m home :) have u left the party yet? **

Before Minghao had time to get his clothes off, Junhui replied:

**Junhui: good ^^ yes, i’m home, but i sorta wish i wasn’t lol **

Minghao frowned at his phone, and wondered why Junhui wouldn’t want to be home. Did he have a bad home life? Did he still live with his parents? Did they bea-

**Junhui: minghao, i can feel you thinking from here omg. it was just gonna be a bad pickup line abt how i wish i was with you lmao. **

The air exited Minghao’s lungs as soon as he read the message. His ears reddened, and he laughed to himself.

**Me: oh thank god. i really didn’t want to be your knight in shining armor without a proper date first.**

As soon as Mingao pressed “send”, he felt his stomach swoop with something he couldn’t put a name to.

_Excitement_? Possibly, but not the kind of excitement he felt before a vacation when he was little.

_Anxiety_? Again, very possible, but talking to Junhui felt easy. He wasn’t as nervous as he normally was talking to someone new.

Minghao came to the conclusion that it was just the thrill of talking to someone like Junhui, who ate _his_ orange candies, and asked confusing questions to determine if someone was worth his time or not.

It fascinated Minghao, but not in the way that other things fascinated him.

He was fascinated by the stars, the sheer size of the universe, how humans had learned to harness the energy from the Earth to bring artificial light to this world.

Minghao had a different kind of fascination with Junhui.

Minghao could imagine waking next to Junhui and seeing the rain rolling down the window reflecting off his cheeks. He could see them sitting across from one another, sipping hot drinks, their fingers intertwined over a table, and the light glinting off their matching rings. He could imagine Junhui lying beneath him, bare and vulnerable for him, with nothing but trust and love covering his features.

He could see his future in Junhui’s eyes, and it was all so profoundly real that it left Minghao breathless. He had to do something, anything, to get this weight off his chest.

So, he did.

**Me: would u be opposed to meeting me for lunch tmrw? my treat :)**

**Junhui: well, of course! but only if you let me pay next time ;)**

 

~

 

     They continued like that until September when the new school year began.

Even when they both became too overwhelmed with school work to _breathe_ , they still found time for each other. Monday and Wednesday evening were spent at Junhui’s dorm, and were dubbed “Math and Takeout Days” where they would, obviously, do math and order takeout.

Junhui made math a bit more bearable for Minghao.

Tuesday and Thursday evenings- or “Cramming and Cravings Days” as Junhui had suggested- were spent at Minghao’s dorm. They tried to eat slightly healthier by actually cooking meals for themselves, but it didn’t always work out. Minghao really just enjoyed the domesticity of it all: he and Junhui cooking together, sharing light touches here and there, and feeding one another bites of food.

By the time November rolled around, Minghao was up to his ears in homework, projects, and numerous assignments. Junhui was the only thing keeping him sane. Initially, both boys had only afternoon classes, and were able to spend their evening together. By Minghao’s birthday, they had both taken up an extra morning class to give them more time to complete their assignments in the evening.

Bad idea.

Junhui was a year older than Minghao, but took similar classes since he was an Early Childhood Development major, and Minghao was a Psychology major. Junhui, however, had developed a very specific study routine that involved note-cards, highlighters, three pillows, and _absolute silence_.

Minghao just wasn’t an absolute silence kind of person. He needed sound, movement, and interaction, or else he wouldn’t learn anything. He listened to music when he did homework, talked out-loud to solve problems, and got up to stretch every thirty minutes exactly. As their classes became more rigorous, their study habits were soon revealed.

One night, Minghao’s Algebra professor had mercifully assigned only thirty-five equations, and Minghao was pretty proud of himself for actually being caught up for once. Junhui, on the other hand, had apparently caught his professor in a bad mood, and had been assigned ninety equations, and twenty word problems.

He was in full homework mode: noise-cancelling earplugs in, one pillow under him, one behind him, and one on his lap, and his pencil working furiously on problem number fifty-seven. It was only 8:00 pm, and Minghao knew that Junhui would finish well before midnight when they had agreed to stop, but Junhui refused to take a break. His body was rigid, his eyes focused, and his free hand gripped his calculator like a lifeline. Just seeing Junhui study stressed Minghao out; he couldn’t imagine how Junhui actually _felt_.

At 9:00, Minghao sat on the couch with his legs crossed underneath him, revising a paper that had to be turned in the next day when he heard a loud _clank!_

“Junhui?” he questioned. There was a wall between the living room and the dining room- where Junhui was- but Minghao knew that Junhui would’ve had some reaction if he had dropped something (he had a habit of saying “ _oof_ ” whenever something surprised him). “Junhui?” Minghao called again, closing his laptop and setting it beside him on the couch.

Minghao had a bitter taste in his mouth. Something was _definitely_ wrong.

“ _Junhui_!” His head was laid sideways on the table, his mouth hanging open, and his eyes shut tight. “No, no, no,” Minghao mumbled to himself, pulling the plugs out of Junhui’s ears. He placed two fingers on Junhui’s pulse point and released a heavy sigh when he felt the steady beating on his fingertips. He had actually _passed out._

Minghao laid his hand over the curve of Junhui’s back and felt it rising and falling slowly.

“ _You’re okay_ ,” Minghao whispered mainly to himself, but also to Junhui. “You’re okay, flower.”

Minghao had taken to calling Junhui ‘flower’ after he found out that the boy uses rose scented shampoo, and keeps potted plants in the window of his dorm. Junhui didn’t mind it, but Minghao only called him that on rare occasions.

His hand stroked up and down Junhui’s back unconsciously. Junhui had told him that when he was a child, he had problems with his blood sugar, and would sometimes pass out if he hadn’t eaten. He had assured Minghao that it wasn’t a problem anymore, but he did pass out from time to time. Minghao researched it after that, and learned that the best thing to do with someone who has passed out is to stay with them, and wait for them to wake up.

And he did.

Minghao pulled up a chair beside Junhui, and continued to run his hands over his back, his shoulders, and through his hair until the older boy woke. His breathing stuttered, and his eyes fluttered open after about two minutes, and Minghao crouched down to eye-level with Junhui.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Minghao whispered, coursing his hands through Junhui’s hair again while the boy’s eyes adjusted to the light. “Feel okay?” he asked. Junhui’s lips curled into a grin (Minghao _loved_ when he did that), and he took Minghao’s free hand into his own.

“Yeah,” Junhui mumbled. He ran his thumb over Minghao’s knuckles the way he always did. It was familiar and comforting, and made Minghao’s tongue ignite with the flavors of oranges and tea. “I realized a couple things,” Junhui said, lifting his head up slightly so he could rest his cheek on Minghao’s palm.

It was times like these that Minghao found it so hard to contain his feelings for Junhui.

“What did you realize?” he asked. Junhui smiled again, and Minghao couldn’t stop the smile on his face if he tried. “I realized why I like those orange candies so much,” Junhui nuzzled his face against Minghao’s palm, and Minghao’s heart nearly flew out of his chest.

“I also realized that today is your birthday, so now would be a good time to tell you this.” Junhui sat up, and pulled Minghao up to his knees. “Tell me what?” Minghao asked. He hadn’t even remembered that it was his birthday, but that didn’t matter at the moment. Junhui was usually this smiley, but he was never as cryptic has he was then.

“Xu Minghao,”

“If you tell me happy birthday right now, I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Let me finish, Minghao. Good lord. And stand up for god sake.” Minghao only noticed then that he was on his knees in front of Junhui, in what may have seemed like a compromising position under different circumstances.

“Right. Sorry.” Junhui cleared his throat before he continued.

“Xu Minghao, I hope you won’t hold me to this statement if it turns out not to be true, but I think it is, so here goes nothing,” Junhui took both of Minghao’s hands in his own, and his expression changed to something more open and loving.

_Loving_.

_Oh, no_.

“I planned to tell you this in a much more romantic or symbolic way, but I guess your birthday is kind of symbolic, right? Whatever; it’s happening.” Junhui’s hands were shaking at this point, and Minghao wanted so badly to hear those words come out of his mouth, but he knew Junhui, and he knew that Junhui was a bundle of nerves right now.

“ _Junhui_ ,” he whispered. He laid one hand in the juncture between Junhui’s neck and shoulder, and held him there, leaning closer.

“I already know why you like those candies,” he said. Minghao could feel something swelling in his throat, ready to explode, and he _knew_ what it was, _knew_ what it would taste like.

It would taste like _Junhui_.

_His soulmate._

“You like them because they’re _my soulmate’s_ favorite. They’re _your_ favorite, Junhui. _You’re my soulmate, flower_.”

 

_Boom_.

 

Flavor burst in Minghao’s mouth and he could hardly grasp all the tastes: sweet lemonade, warm chocolate covered strawberries, orange peels tossed into a fire, the first breath of cold air in the Winter, hot green tea with just the right amount of lemon, blackberries picked straight off a bush, and everything that was _Junhui_.

Minghao had never seen Junhui’s face light up the way it did then. His eyes sparkled like diamonds, and his smile reached past his eyes, seemingly all the way to his fingertips as he cupped Minghao’s cheeks.

“You’re _mine_?” Junhui asked incredulously. Minghao could only smile at him as tears welled in his eyes.

“I’ve always been yours, Junhui. And you’ve always been mine.”

 

~

 

     When Minghao was twenty two, his soulmate graduated college, and was hired as a first grade teacher at the elementary school near the university. Junhui came to visit him every day after he got off work, and surprised him with baked goods, and crayon covered cards made by Junhui’s students, that always read:

_**“To Mr. Wen’s Husband- Do well on your exams! We believe in you!”** _

“They do know we aren’t married, right?” Minghao asked once, smiling at the flowers and stick-figures drawn on his card. Junhui slung his arms around his soulmates shoulders and pecked him on the tip of his nose. “They know. They’re just rooting for us.”

 

~

 

 

When Minghao was twenty-two and three months, he finally saw what he had been imagining behind his eyelids for two years: Junhui laid beneath him, bare, vulnerable, and _his_. Minghao’s breath escaped him in jagged waves as he chanted in Junhui’s ear how _perfect_ he was, and how much he loved him.

He was a picture of pure beauty. Soft, warm, and coming undone at Minghao’s touch, and he had always been grateful that Junhui was his soulmate, but never grateful for this reason.

Minghao bathed in Junhui’s glow, in the soft whispers that left his lips, the taste of oranges on his tongue, and the hands wrapped around his hips as he caressed his soulmate.

_His soulmate_.

_His_.

 

~

 

     When Minghao was twenty-three, he finally graduated after switching his major to Childhood Development Counseling, and took on an internship at the same school Junhui worked at. They bought their first apartment together that same year- a small, two bedroom place with tall windows and granite countertops. Minghao was still amazed that they could afford it.

Junhui was busy working on his Master’s while also trying to teach a new class of first graders, and Minghao could see it was wearing him down. “Flower, why are you working so much on your Master’s when you already have a stable job?” Minghao asked one night. It was like Junhui was back in college: three pillows around him, note cards and highlighters sprawled out on the coffee table, and his earplugs sitting beside him.

“Because my job will be even more secure if I have the legitimacy of a Master’s degree. Then they can’t fire me in favor of someone who already has it."

“Baby, you’ve only been out of college for two years. No employer in their right mind would expect you to have your Master’s already.” Minghao joined Junhui where he sat on the floor, and moved the pillow off of his soulmate’s lap. “I know, Hao, but it’s just something that would make _me_ feel better, you know? I won’t have to prove myself to my superiors anymore.” Minghao furrowed his brow, and set his hand over Junhui’s.

“Junhui, you don’t have to prove _anything_ to _anyone_. Any person who watches you teach, or sees your students knows how good of a teacher you are! You’re given the challenging students for a reason: _because you can handle them_. Out of all the staff, you’re the one with the least experience, yet you have the most difficult class to teach. You’re talented, Junhui, and you deserve to be where you are in life right now. _You’ve earned it_.”

Minghao wiped the tears from his soulmate’s cheeks, and kissed him gently on the forehead. He pulled away and kissed him two more times on each eyelid, once on the tip of his nose, and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

Minghao would _never_ get tired of kissing Junhui.

“Let’s go to bed, okay? You have plenty of time to finish this.”

Minghao woke the next morning to raindrops rolling down the window, and reflecting off Junhui’s cheeks.

 

~

 

     When Minghao was twenty-four, he asked Junhui’s parents for their blessing. He wasn’t worried- Junhui’s parents had always adored him- but he was nervous to actually ask Junhui to marry him. It had always been implied that they would get married one day, but they had never really discussed it. It just _was_.

Minghao kept the rings -white gold bands with thirteen sides, and their names carved into the insides in Mandarin- to himself for longer than he intended to, and _massively_ fucked up his proposal.

They had bought a new apartment closer to the city where Minghao had been relocated to, and were taking everything out of their nightstands when Minghao made a _huge_ mistake:

“Hao, is there _anything_ in your nightstand besides lube and condoms?” Junhui was digging through Minghao’s nightstand, and tossing everything into a box labeled, “Minghao’s Shit”.

Thinking about it now, his nightstand wasn’t the best place to keep the rings since Junhui rummaged around blindly in there pretty frequently, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

Minghao was distracted with loading another box onto the pile he was taking downstairs, and absentmindedly yelled, “Yeah, our rings are in there, so be careful!” over his shoulder as he took the box downstairs.

As soon as he said he, Minghao knew he fucked up. He sat the boxes down in the hallway outside their apartment, and ran back inside to see his soulmate sitting on their bed, cradling a velvet box in his hands. He was crying.

Minghao dropped to his knees in front of Junhui, and laid his hands over the box. “Junhui, baby, I am so _so_ sorry. I didn’t mean to say that, I was just distracted wi-”

“Why are you apologizing, you idiot?” Junhui laughed, and handed the box to Minghao. “Well, I’m already crying, so you might as well ask me.” Minghao’s mouth dropped open.

“But I had a plan! It was gonna be so romantic and cheesy! Can we at least wait until I set my plan into motion?”

“Xu Minghao, you would’ve never asked me if this didn’t happen.” Junhui crossed his arms over his chest, but he was still smiling.

Minghao knew he was right.

“Oh my god, just-”

“ _You’re already on your_ _knees_ , _Minghao_!”

“Wen Junhui-” Minghao pulled one knee up, and balanced on his other. He wiped the tears from his soulmate’s cheeks one last time before he opened the box to reveal the ring.

“Wen Junhui, you are my soulmate, my flower, the air that I breathe, and the closest I will ever come to divinity. I want to wake up to your horrid morning breath, and lay around in our pajamas all day, and make eighty Hot Pockets in the middle of the night, and have gross, giggly sex with you for the rest of my life. You would make me the happiest man in the world if you’d let me do all of those things. Will you marry me?”

They were both crying and laughing by this point, and Junhui wrapped his arms around Minghao’s neck while Minghao laid his head against his soulmate’s chest. Junhui pulled away and wiped his thumbs under Minghao’s eyes as they rested their foreheads together.

“How could I ever say ‘no’ to that?”

 

~

 

     When Minghao was twenty-five, he could honestly say that he was happy with where life had taken him.

It was 7:00 am on a Wednesday morning, and Junhui was sitting at the kitchen table finishing his lesson plans for the substitute that would be taking over for the next week. Minghao sat a cup of coffee down in front of his husband, and pushed his thumb between Junhui’s eyebrows. “You’re eyebrows are gonna get stuck like that one of these days.” he teased, and Junhui smiled up at him, thanking him for the coffee.

“I’m just nervous. You know I don’t like to leave my kids for this long. What if they don’t understand something and the substitute can’t explain it? What if I come back after a week, and they’ve learned _nothing_?” Minghao caressed his husband’s cheek and felt him lean into the touch immediately.

“They’ll be okay, flower. No one can replace you, but they wouldn’t bring in an incompetent substitute either. And you know that you’ll be gone for a good cause. The kids know too, right?” Junhui nodded. He had told his students about the adoption as soon as he had been approved for the time off. Minghao smiled. “Good. I’m sure they understand why you won’t be there. It’ll be okay, love.” Minghao kissed his husband’s knuckles. “Thank you, Hao.” Junhui smiled up at him. “Anything for you, Junhui.”

The sun glinted off their wedding rings, and Minghao smiled. He was _so_ in love with his life.

 

~

 

     By the time Minghao was twenty-six, he was the father to a beautiful, dark-haired girl named ChunHua. ChunHua was six months old when Junhui and Minghao adopted her, and Minghao still catches Junhui gazing at her like she’s the most wonderful thing in the world two years later. (Minghao couldn’t really say anything; he looked at her with the same expression.)

“Papa! Come on, we have to make Dada his surprise pancakes!” ChunHua whisper-yelled in Junhui’s ear. “My surprise what?” Minghao asked from the other side of the bed. His face was buried in Junhui’s hair, and he kissed his husband on the neck before leaning over to talk to their little girl. “Nothing, Dada! This is between me and Papa!” ChunHua smiled nervously as she tried to pull Junhui from the bed.

Minghao just chuckled, and leaned over to plant a kiss on ChunHua’s head. “If you can get Papa out of bed, I’ll pretend that I didn’t hear any of that. Okay, princess?” ChunHua nodded, and continued to pull on her Papa’s arm. Minghao reached under the blanket and smacked his husband on the thigh a couple times before peppering his face with kisses.

“Chun, come help me out here, would you?” Minghao lifted his daughter up to the bed, and sat her down on Junhui’s chest before they both smothered him with kisses. Junhui groaned, but he didn’t have the heart to push his daughter or his husband off of him.

“ChunHua, I thought you were on my side!” he grumbled as he lifted the girl over his head and laid her down between the two of them. “Papa, no!” the little girl screeched with joy between them as Junhui and Minghao both tickled her sides. The tickling came to an end soon after, and ChunHua clung to Minghao’s neck, singing “Happy Birthday” in broken Mandarin. “Thank you, sweetheart.” Minghao kissed his little girl on the nose, and rose from the bed with her in his arms.

“Let’s get you ready for school while Papa makes those birthday pancakes, yeah?” Minghao threw a wink over his shoulder at his husband, and Junhui rolled his eyes at him as their daughter laughed.

Later that night, as they lay in bed together, basking in the afterglow of their passion-filled evening, Junhui pulled a small red box out from under his pillow.

“What’s this?” Minghao asked, sitting up and turning on his bedside lamp. Junhui smiled and kissed him once on the lips. “Open it.”

Inside, was a ring with three keys on it. Minghao’s heart jumped into his throat.

“What are these to?” he asked. Junhui took the keys from the box, and held one up at a time. “One for me, one for you, and one for ChunHua, just in case she ever needs it. They’re the keys the that house we looked at on Guang Street that you liked so much.”

“The one you _insisted_ we couldn’t afford a down payment on until after taxes?”

“That’s the one.” Junhui was positively beaming, and Minghao didn’t know what to say. They’d wanted to move out of their apartment for awhile, but couldn’t afford the house they wanted- so Minghao thought.

“How did you make this happen, flower?” Minghao asked, his eyes welling up with tears of joy. “Our landlord agreed to increase our payments for the first three months instead of us making a down payment. I’d planned to do that all along actually, I just wanted to surprise you. You’re not mad, are you?”

“Of course I’m not mad, love,” Minghao took his husbands hands in his own. “I’m thrilled. I’m just so surprised.” Junhui smiled, and pulled Minghao into his arms.

“We’ll tell ChunHua tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

 

~

 

     When Minghao turned thirty, he wished for his life to never change. He was married to the love of his life, they were raising a smart, talented, beautiful little girl, and he had the job he’d always wanted.

His life was _perfect_.

 

It was at the end of the day, after they’d given ChunHua her bath and put her to bed, that Minghao and Junhui sat down together and drank their green tea.

Junhui placed a kiss on Minghao’s shoulder with a whispered, “ _I love you_ ” and Minghao knew that his life was perfect.

 

Minghao had found the taste he wanted to keep forever, and he was never going to let go.

 

~

**Author's Note:**

> well? how was it? let me know in the comments! i'm always up for some constructive criticism! thank you so much for reading & have a lovely day/night! :) 
> 
> twt: triptyvh  
> cc: triptyvh
> 
> ~ cj


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